


The Greatest Gift

by camnoelgallavich, jinlin5



Series: Husbands and Shit [10]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anniversary, Bubble Bath, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff and Humor, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, No Smut, Post-Season/Series 11, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but worth it because cute, gallavich anniversary, trust us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camnoelgallavich/pseuds/camnoelgallavich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlin5/pseuds/jinlin5
Summary: Mickey forgot their anniversary- or did he?___________________________________________________Mickey grunted out a muffled goodbye and watched Ian leave. The minute that he could no longer hear Ian’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, Mickey threw his phone to the side and hopped up off of the bed, snickering to himself rather manically.Ian really thought he had forgotten.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Husbands and Shit [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713814
Comments: 27
Kudos: 283





	The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fun little one-shot we cooked up to celebrate their first year as husbands!  
> We hope you enjoy! <3

Ian had been looking forward to his first wedding anniversary for a while now, especially in the weeks leading up to it. The day was a big deal in most relationships, and after having been married for a year, he completely understood why - marriage was fucking hard. Harder than anyone could even comprehend until they’re actually in the middle of it. And despite having loved one another for over a decade, he and Mickey had never been ones to celebrate the passing of years. There were too many gaps in between - too much drama, too much wasted time. Given this, Ian considered this anniversary to be a huge milestone in both of their lives. They’d survived their first year as husbands, and that shit was worth celebrating.

For weeks in advance, Ian had been building the day up in his head, excitedly daydreaming of the many ways he could spoil Mickey on the day. Throughout the week before he had been carefully sneaking small gifts into the house and putting in the effort to wrap them all up before he hid them in Debbie’s closet, knowing full well that Mickey would never dare to venture into that mess. 

The only thing Ian had refrained from doing was planning out their evening with the military-like precision he applied to his own schedules. Something he had forced himself to do throughout their first year as husband and husband, was to accept that Mickey didn’t think about life in the way that he did. Rightfully, Ian assumed Mickey would want to do something lowkey, so he resigned himself to figuring out what they wanted to do closer to the date. Mickey was a last minute kind of guy, and Ian had learned to live with and love the spontaneity of his husband's approach to the world.

However, all of that hadn’t stopped him from dropping a few hints here and there about new restaurants opening downtown, just to gauge Mickey’s reaction and see if he was interested in the concept of going out on a formal date. Unfortunately for him, Mickey never once took the bait. Typically, he would rib Ian about mentioning such inconsequential things, or nonchalantly change the subject, and Ian would roll his eyes towards the heavens behind his back and beg for patience. 

“So… I think Vee’s gonna cut my shift a little earlier than usual today.” Ian said as he tucked his checkered shirt into his pants, getting dressed for his shift bartending at the Alibi. 

Ian and Mickey’s security business had taken off but there was a lot of lag time between pickups and dropoffs, so Ian had decided to pick up some shifts at the bar for Kev and Vee. Their stint as high end weed dealers had consumed most of the couple’s attention over the last six months, so they’d needed someone working behind the bar while they were occupied. Who better than family?

Vee had transformed the loft above the Alibi into a store, and business was consistently booming so she was always running out and about. Therefore, more often than not, Ian’s day shifts included babysitting Amy and Gemma after school, but he didn’t altogether mind. They would sit at the bar and do their homework and talk to him, reminding him of his relationship with Kev and Vee growing up. 

“How come?” Mickey looked up from the mind-numbing game he had been playing on his phone - yet another off brand iteration of Candy Crush - sounding uninterested. He was leaning against the wall at an angle that looked almost painful, without even a pillow propped behind him. “Thought you said we need all the money we can get?” 

“I mean, yeah we do, but...Vee told me she wouldn’t really need me at the bar after six-thirty…” Ian mumbled dejectedly, fastening his belt before flashing Mickey a set of _unintentional_ puppy-dog eyes, still holding out hope. “Figured I’d come home and we could do something together ‘cause…” 

Mickey stared at his husband like he had grown a second head. “ _‘Cause…_. you gonna finish the sentence, man? I’m not a fuckin’ mind reader.” He went back to his game then, squinting down at his phone, leaving Ian standing before him. 

_‘Cause it’s our fuckin’ anniversary asshole!_ Ian berated Mickey internally. Outwardly, he managed to hold it together, shaking his head as he squinted into the mirror, running a comb through his curls to sculpt them into shape.

“Nah, forget it. I’m goin’ to work. See you later.” Ian grumbled, scooping up his keys from the nightstand and leaning onto the bed to kiss the top of Mickey’s head before leaving the room, disappointment gnawing at his insides.

Mickey grunted out a muffled goodbye and watched Ian leave. The minute that he could no longer hear Ian’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, Mickey threw his phone to the side and hopped up off of the bed, snickering to himself rather manically. 

Ian really thought he had forgotten. 

Mickey didn’t know if he should be fucking insulted that his husband really had that little faith in him, or if he should be pleased with his outstanding performance. It had been difficult as all hell _-_ spending the last few weeks pretending to completely ignore Ian dropping so many ham-fisted hints about their anniversary _._ Not to mention, the last thing Mickey had wanted to see on such an important day was disappointment written all over Ian’s face. 

He had almost cracked when Ian had given him that _look_ , the one where his bottom lip suddenly stuck out twice as far and his eyes somehow got at least five times bigger, taking up the upper half of his face like gigantic green headlights or some shit. 

But it was important that Ian thought Mickey had forgotten - important to _the plan_. 

*

Time ticked by slowly throughout the day, slithering at a snail's pace.

Ian spent the majority of his shift nursing a lemonade and shooting the shit with the usual rotation of barflies that flocked to the Alibi - trying to ignore the way his mood was sinking more with each passing hour. He was monumentally pissed off that Mickey had apparently forgotten such a special occasion, and it wasn’t helping that he seemingly had no dinner plans with his husband on their fucking anniversary. Not that they had ever had much of a conventional relationship, but Ian sometimes wished they could pretend - even just for a night - that they had their shit together like an _average_ couple. Regardless, Ian spent his time behind the bar plotting ways to make the best of the evening by giving Mickey his presents. Part of him selfishly hoped that Mickey would feel at least a little shitty when he realized that he had forgotten. 

Eventually, _mercifully_ , the clock struck six-thirty and Vee came out from the back, carrying a few bags of ice in her arms. 

“Alright, Ian. Get up outta here!” She commanded, heaving the bangs onto the bar and rolling her eyes when Tommy jumped slightly, like she had meant to startle him. “Kev just called and said he’s picking the girls up from their friends house and headed here.”

“Sounds good, Vee” Ian nodded at her, pulling the rag off of his shoulder and drying his hands on it. “See you Monday?” 

“We’ll be here!” Vee assured him, motioning around to the assortment of patrons, where they sat in their traditional positions. “Go have a good night with your man!” 

“Try not to bump uglies too hard...” Tommy sang mockingly, receiving a raised middle finger from Ian as he threw his drying rag down onto the bar. 

“Fuck off, Tommy. Least I’m gettin’ some.” Ian made his way to the back room to grab his coat, slinging it on as he came back out and strolled to the door of the bar. “In fact, we’re gonna bang so hard, you’ll hear it from here, jagoff.” He flipped Tommy off over his shoulder, for good measure. 

“Happy anniversary, sweetface!” Vee couldn’t help but yell as he pulled open the door and exited into the cold January night. 

*

Ian trudged his way home through the snow, wrapped up in one of Mickey’s thick winter scarves. He was chilled to the bone by the time he entered the house. He stomped the sludge off of his boots on the mat in front of the door before he hastily removed them, hustling further inside the house towards the warmth. 

Ian gazed at the old fireplace longingly as walked through the living room, deciding to hunt for food first before possibly coming back to turn it on. He had cleaned it out after Thanksgiving and was planning on getting some real use out of it during the winter, for the first time in years. If they were staying home tonight, Ian figured they could at least enjoy a movie in front of the warm fire. 

Ian froze in his tracks as he stepped into the kitchen, discovering messily-wrapped gift boxes on the table, stacked one on top of the other, along with a veritable buffet of Chinese food in styrofoam trays on the countertop - looking like it had been all laid out for Ian. When he lifted the lid of one of the containers to confirm that he was indeed smelling his favorite takeout, Ian couldn’t resist stealing a piece of orange chicken, before setting off to figure out where the hell his husband had gone. 

“Mick?” Ian called, poking his head into the downstairs bathroom and then circling back into the living room to check the hideout under the steps on the off chance that Mickey was trying to surprise him. “Mickey? You home?” He hollered up the living room steps. Not only could he not find Mickey, but nobody else seemed to be home either. 

Up in the bathroom, Mickey tried not to splash too much water around as he cupped his hands around his lips. “Come find me, Gallagher!” He called teasingly, knowing that just his voice would be enough to give his position away. It wasn’t a very big house after all, and Mickey wanted his husband to hurry up before the water got fucking cold. 

Ian took the stairs two steps at a time, already feeling elated by the unexpected spread Mickey had laid for him - not to mention, he could barely fathom presents on top of that. “Where-...” Ian ducked his head into their room first, before continuing down the hall, leaving the sentence unfinished.

When he reached the doorway to the bathroom and peered in, Ian’s jaw practically hit the floor. He felt like he was having a full-on hallucination - Mickey was resting comfortably in a bathtub full of fucking _bubbles_ , surrounded by the flickering flames of half melted candles which shone brightly in the dim lighting.

Mickey grinned widely, pleased by the look of shock Ian sported. He got some sort of visceral pleasure out of subverting Ian’s expectations today - and maybe he always had. He leaned back with one elbow resting on the sides of the porcelain tub, submerged in the water, completely nude.

“Figured we could give this gay shit one more try,” Mickey remarked, glancing down and pushing an iceberg of bubbles out of the way. “Ya know, since it’s a pretty fucking special day, or whatever.” He murmured, watching Ian’s eyes go soft. 

“ _Miiiiick_ …” Ian whined, stepping out of his clothes without further invitation or closing the door. Once Ian was completely naked, he stepped quickly to the side of the tub and sunk down onto his knees, ignoring the biting cold of the tiles on his bare flesh. He cupped Mickey’s face, pulling his husband’s head towards his own with both hands and zero hesitation. 

As soon as their lips touched, Ian knew without a doubt in mind that Mickey hadn’t forgotten for a minute. How could he? 

“You thought I fucking forgot?” Mickey snickered as soon as Ian had placed very hungry kisses all over his face, from his lips to his cheeks to his chin and forehead. “ _Bitch_.” He cackled, splashing a wave of water and suds in Ian’s direction. 

“Yeah, I thought you did.” Ian admitted with a blush. He stood up, wiping away the water that had landed on his chest before standing up. “You didn’t say anything about it this morning.” Ian bent at the waist and used Mickey’s shoulders to balance him as he stepped one foot after the other into the tub. 

Mickey tried to stay still to avoid Ian slipping or toppling over - that would have been the perfect way to ruin the evening. “Ever heard of a suprise? Kinda doesn’t work so well when you go around blabbing what you’re planning.” When Ian paused to give him a concentrated look, Mickey raised his eyebrows about half an inch higher. “What, you thought Vee remembered to let you go early all by herself? Surprise, _motherfucker_.” 

“Alright, well, to be fair, she was at our wedding last year. She could’ve just _remembered._ ” Ian tried to ease his embarrassment as he slid down onto Mickey’s lap. Due to the cramped dimensions of the bathtub, Ian was forced to curl sideways to make himself fit. Once he was more or less settled, Ian cuddled up closer to his husband, pressing a lingering kiss to the center of his chest, before hiding his red face in Mickey’s neck. 

Mickey chuckled and pressed his lips to his husband's temple as he spoke. “Yeah, but I’m the one who asked her to let you go. I’m the one who told your annoying family to scram and leave us alone for the night. I’m the one who remembered to get all your favorites from the new Chinese place, and put that stupid bubbly shit the water...” Lifting his soaked arms up, Mickey wrapped them around as much of Ian as he could reach, allowing the man to lay back against his chest and sink down into the warm water. “Do I need to keep going? Or do you get the point?” 

“I got it. You’re _the one_.” Ian smiled, feeling the warmth - from the water and from Mickey - spreading throughout his body. “You _love_ me.” He sang softly to himself, suddenly feeling ridiculous for doubting Mickey’s memory. Ian reached up behind him to run his fingers over Mickey’s cheek, twisting his neck to look Mickey in the eyes. Ian repeated his promise, one that he was sure he’d be reciting from now until the end of time. “And, _I love_ _you,_ Mick.” He spoke in barely a whisper, guiding his lover downward for yet another soft kiss. 

Mickey accepted all of the affection, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner to distract from the fact that he really was enjoying himself. It helped that this time there wasn’t a fucking tap stuck into the middle of his back - it was a little bit of a struggle to fit both of them into the shitty little bathtub, but it seemed that they had figured it out. He kissed Ian a few more times, soaking it all up. It was their first anniversary, after all. 

Most people made a big deal out of anniversaries and Mickey was starting to see why - it had not been a totally smooth journey, making it through being officially married for a year. They had been through ups and downs, arguments, days of cold shoulders before nights of warm ‘make up’ sessions. Mickey supposed it really was something worth celebrating.

“Fuckin’ _right_ I love you,” Mickey hummed softly into Ian’s ear once his husband had settled back and closed his eyes, resting comfortably with his head leaning back on Mickey’s shoulder. “You think I’d go through all this shit for anyone else?” He thought for a moment, rubbing his thumb against the ginger hairs on Ian’s upper thigh, smoothing them down and messing them up over and over again. “ _With_ anyone else?” He added quietly. There were some things that were for Ian’s ears only, and that type of mushy stuff was definitely part of it. 

Ian reached out and ran his finger along Mickey’s shining wedding ring under the water before he wrapped his larger hand around his husband’s, holding it in place. “Never. Just us, together…” Ian mumbled pulling Mickey’s other arm tighter across his chest, wanting to be held, for once. 

“Just _us_.”

*

They sat in the bathtub until the water turned ice cold and they had to get out to drain it. Mickey shivered relentlessly, until Ian mercifully draped a towel around his shoulders. Once they were both sufficiently dry, and no longer freezing their asses off, both men pulled some clothes on and headed downstairs for the anniversary feast. 

“Guess I shoulda put this shit in the fridge, huh? Your slow ass took your good goddamn time getting outta the tub.” Mickey poked at the room temperature Chinese food in one of the containers on the table, hip-checking Ian gently. “Good thing microwaves exist.” 

“Not my fault you’re so damn comfortable to sit on. If it hadn’t been a surprise, I could’ve spent that time doing other things on your lap.” He winked as he scooped up a plate for Mickey and nudged him towards the microwave with it. 

“You turnin’ into a bottom now?” Mickey teased. He slammed the microwave door closed and watched the plate circle around and around. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time…” 

“Hey asshole,” Ian caught Mickey's attention and then pointed to the t-shirt he’d pulled on which read _‘Verse’_ , “Can’t make it any more clear for you.” He joked back before bringing his plate over to the microwave just as Mickey’s finished.

Mickey found himself laughing out loud at this, feeling lighthearted for a change. It was a welcome feeling - he spent too much of his life worrying about shit, and the whole anniversary thing felt like a mini vacation from all of that. When Ian brought the other plate over, heaping with food, Mickey didn’t hesitate to swap with him, handing him the now steaming plate and motioning for his husband to sit down. Mickey stuck the other plate into the microwave and leaned against the counter to wait. 

The smile on Ian’s face hadn’t dimmed since he’d gotten in the tub with Mickey. “What are all these?” He gestured to the gifts, waiting patiently for Mickey to join him before eating.

The microwave made an obnoxious beep, letting Mickey know the food was scorched enough to be taken out. He took the plate out and turned towards the fridge, expertly grabbing the necks of two beer bottles with one hand and carrying everything over to the table. Mickey sat one beer in front of Ian and then plopped down in the seat adjacent to him. “Stuff…” Mickey shrugged cryptically. 

“Stuff for _me_?” Ian held out the last word like a child, eyeing the presents excitedly as Mickey began to eat.

Mickey gave his husband a deadpan stare, stabbing his fork into a sauce covered chicken ball and popping it into his mouth whole. “No, stuff for Frank,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “of course stuff for you, jackass. It’s our anniversary, ain’t it?” 

Ian reached out and held Mickey’s chin, yanking him close and kissing his sticky general-tso's covered lips. Mickey was just being too sweet and thoughtful, Ian didn’t know what else to do other than plant one on him.

Mickey was grinning as he pulled away from the kiss with an audible _smack_. “So where’s my shit, huh?” He inquired playfully, nudging Ian’s knee under the table as he cracked open his beef and took a swig. “Yeah, don’t think that I didn’t see that fruity wrapping paper shoved under our bed. You think you’re real slick, dontcha?” 

“You don’t know where the presents are, so that’s proof that I am- _in fact_ \- slick.” Ian flipped Mickey off and took a determined bite of his noodles.

“Maybe you shoulda told Debbie before you started hiding them in her closet.” Mickey smiled smugly into his beer bottle as Ian chewed. “Maybe then she wouldn’t have come screamin’ at me about you stashing shit in her room…”

“Nooooo.” Ian groaned, giving Mickey’s arm a shove. “ _Ugh_ , you didn’t open them, did you?”

Mickey shook his head. “Nah, but it was hard as fuck to stop myself from doing it. Plus, I didn’t wanna risk having to go into Debbie’s room and accidentally catch her and Sandy _muff-diving_.” Mickey shivered, as if he were having some sort of unpleasant flashback.

Ian grimaced at the possibility, but then his face hardened and he pointed his fork at Mickey in accusation, “So basically, _my surprise_ was ruined.” He lamented. 

Mickey snorted, reaching out with his free hand to cover over Ian’s, bunched up in a fist on the table. “Alright drama-queen, chill out. I dunno what you got me. We can open ‘em at the same time, okay?”

“Fine... I guess.” Ian gave an exaggerated eye roll, aware that Mickey found his griping endearing, as much as he complained about it. He flipped his hand over and held Mickey’s, giving it a tight squeeze.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, holding hands, enjoying the solitude. Eventually, they melted into conversation, talking with their mouths full and laughing at each other's terribly cheesy jokes.

It only took an entire year to get the hang of, but being together was finally easy, and Ian and Mickey were thankful for this small victory.

*

Ian ran upstairs directly after they ate dessert, and picked up the pile of Mickey’s presents from the shelf in Debbie’s closet, but not before sending her a sincerely bitchy text for opening her big mouth and ruining his surprise. Then, he came down to the living room to start an actual fire in the fireplace, hoping to set the mood for their gift exchange. Ian didn’t know how Mickey had gotten everyone out of the house, but it had been an impressive feat. This much time alone was a commodity in the Gallagher household. 

As soon as the first embers were burning away at the first small log he’d thrown over the kindling, Ian began to rearrange the living room to his liking, dragging the coffee table clear across the room. He then laid out several thick blankets for the two of them to sit on, along with as many pillows as he could find within the household. Kneeling on his side, Ian arranged Mickey’s presents in a small pile before adding more wood to the fire and finally calling Mickey in. 

This whole setup was the least he could do for his husband, Ian figured. After all, Mickey had remembered their fail of a romantic bath from all the way back in the summer, and had made the new experience better in every way possible.

When Mickey entered the room, his arms full of his poorly wrapped presents, he let out a whistle at the major changes Ian had made to the room while he was away. “Well shit, I take it back,” Mickey shuffled over to the blanket nest and planted himself down, laying the presents out beside the ones Ian had already placed down, “ _this_ is the gayest thing we’ve ever done.” 

Ian laughed and pulled Mickey closer against his side, kissing his bare shoulder beside the band of his tank top and wrapping a spare blanket around both of them. “ _Now_ it’s the gayest thing we’ve ever done. Besides getting married, I guess.” Ian declared, bumping his shoulder against Mickey. “Here. Open this one first.” He handed Mickey a neatly wrapped box, which felt a little heavy given its size. 

Mickey accepted the gift and crossed his legs, tearing at the wrapping until he uncovered the cardboard box underneath. “After a year of putting up with your cranky ass, this better be fuckin’ good…” He warned, although he wasn’t very convincing. It wasn’t hard to tell that Mickey was excited about the prospects the box had to offer

Once he got the present open and peered inside, Mickey lit up from the inside out. “Holy shit man! You actually do listen when I talk!” Mickey picked up the Xbox controller from inside the Amazon box, discarding it in favor of beginning to turn the controller around in his hands- looking at it from every angle. It was the very same controller he had been going on about for months - the one that would light up when you got a kill. 

Ian smiled at Mickey’s excitement, shaking his head at Mickey’s comment. “‘Course I do.” He let Mickey enjoy it for another few minutes before passing him a much smaller box. “I saw this and knew you had to have it. ” 

Mickey made quick work of the next box, finding inside one of the funniest goddamn gifts he’d ever received. It was a brand new Zippo lighter, but with a twist - this lighter was shaped like a hand holding up its middle finger. He’d never seen something so fitting. Ian really did know him well. 

“Now I can flip someone off while I light a smoke! Fuckin’ sweet.” Mickey cackled, leaning over to smack a quick kiss onto his husband's cheek. 

Ian felt his cheeks aching from smiling for such extended periods of time. “Okay, let’s save the last one for later. I wanna open one of mine.” He was getting antsy and he knew how cheesy his last gift was, so he wanted to switch things up a bit. 

Mickey leaned over Ian’s lap and selected a sizable package, wrapped in Christmas paper that had been sitting in the back of their closet since Fiona had moved out. He had always had a very _waste-not-want-not_ approach to such things that charmed Ian to no end. 

“Try this one,” Mickey dropped the package in his husband's lap and sat back against the couch, basking in the glow of the fire. 

The box was decently big and Ian decided it would have been hilarious if Mickey had gotten him a controller too - only to steal it from him immediately after the fact. He recognized the old wrapping paper as he methodically stripped it away from the box, smiling knowingly at Mickey. Ian’s hands froze over the box as he stared at what was depicted on it- a pair of brand new matte black Bose headphones. “Holy shit.” He looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. 

“For when you run,” Mickey commented simply, with a shrug. As if he hadn’t spent days trying to decide which model he should buy for Ian. As if he hadn’t spent extra on wireless ones because he knew Ian would think they were fucking awesome. 

“They’re perfect.” Ian beamed, reaching for Mickey with both hands and kissing him hard, almost forgetting that there were more gifts to give. The headphones probably set them back a good amount, but Ian loved them already. Mickey’s gifts were always top tier. 

Mickey reached for the next gift while he kissed Ian leisurely, bringing the short oblong box in front of them until it caught Ian’s attention. “This is probably my favorite.” He confessed. He had a much sappier gift planned, but this one quite literally took the cake. 

“Really? The headphones were fuckin’ awesome, man. I don’t think you can top that.” Ian mumbled, lingering on Mickey’s lips for a bit longer, having trouble pulling his eyes away. They looked softer and much more pink than usual in the light of the now roaring fire, and as always they were garnering Ian’s full attention. He glanced down at the box with a bakery sticker on top, realizing it was one of the new places he’d told Mickey about when he’d been _not-so-casually_ dropping hints. Apparently, Mickey listened to him too. 

Ian tore a rift down the center of the sticker sealing the two sides of the box together and opened the lid, bursting into laughter as soon as he read what was written on the chocolate covered strawberries the box contained. “ **_DICK ME DOWN_ **?! Excuse you! That’s what I do on the regular!” Ian was laughing so hard, the box nearly slipped off of his lap. Luckily he managed to catch it just in time. “Is this a request or a reminder?” 

“It’s whatever you want it to be, kid.” Mickey winked flirtatiously, clearly pleased about his choices. “You better fuckin’ enjoy ‘em, too. Nearly killed the poor chick who I asked to stick the letters on those little shits.” 

Ian snorted and picked up one with a heart on it, taking a huge bite out of it and then passing the rest of it to Mickey to finish off. “We’re definitely going to _enjoy_ those later.” He smirked, heavy on the insinuation. “But that can wait. We gotta finish opening our last gifts first.” 

Ian set the strawberries to his side and reached for the last two gifts, noting that they both seemed to be of a similar size and shape. He passed Mickey the one he’d wrapped before asking, “Open them together?” Trying to avoid any undue embarrassment. 

Mickey nodded. As soon as he got his hands on Ian’s gift he felt a characteristic tightness in his throat. “Yeah, good idea.” He agreed. He had a feeling he knew just what the gift was. 

“Okay, three, two, one.” Ian counted down, before shredding the wrapping paper recklessly and gasping as he lifted the item he had uncovered in order to get a better look. Mickey had framed a wedding picture - the one where Ian was caressing his cheeks as they kissed to seal their union. It was _perfect_. It was easily one of his favorite pictures from that memorable day - it seemed Mickey had known that. 

Mickey hardly caught Ian’s reaction to his gift - he was too busy trying to reign in his emotions over the gift he himself had just unwrapped. It was also a wedding picture, placed in a simple wooden frame. Mickey remembered the precise moment the photo was captured. It portrayed the aftermath of the cake cutting - both he and Ian looked deliriously happy, embracing each other with the remnants carrot cake mashed into their rented tuxes. Their faces were a mess too - covered by streaks of frosting and electric smiles. It was an excellent representation of their relationship, Mickey thought.

“Hey.” Ian recovered from his shock faster than Mickey. “Would you look at that… we had the same idea.” He whispered.

All Mickey could do was nod stiffly and stare at the photo in the frame, or else he was sure that he would break down into fucking tears. There was something about that particular photo that stirred up some serious shit in him. Good shit. Bad shit. Shit that Mickey had never really talked about out loud. He recalled how hard it had been to get to that moment - and how worth it all the moment had been. 

“Happy Anniversary, Mick.” Ian mumbled, reaching over and squeezing Mickey’s hand. He could see the emotions written all over Mickey’s face and he understood exactly what they meant. “One year down, a million to go.”

Mickey glanced between the photo in the frame and Ian, his mouth hanging open and his blue eyes shining with unshed tears. All at once, he caught his breath, placed the frame on the couch behind their heads and lunged forward, toppling Ian over. Mickey managed to find his husband's lips on the way down so when they landed, he was immediately locked in a passionate kiss, ravenously licking into Ian’s mouth and cradling his body in the process.

The meeting of their lips contained a thousand words, each unspoken thing, plus all of the other things they repeated often. It was the culmination of one of their hardest years, yet undoubtedly one of their best. Not to mention, their little celebration was starting off the next year with a bang. 

Ian pulled Mickey to his chest, holding on tightly, more positive by the minute that he held in his arms the greatest gift of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated, forever and always!  
> Until next time! ~


End file.
